To DeStress a Teenage Songwriter
by StarUchiha
Summary: She couldn't, she wouldn't, she wasn't some flake who just changed her mind every five seconds, she had morals, she – she… wanted to. Auslly. Lemony Oneshot.


Hey guys, this is my first fic for Austin & Ally, and it's rather naughty as well. Note the M rating for that. Anyways, I'm usually not a fan of Disney's new stuff but this show's alright and has a nice charm to it. So like I said before, this one shot, although it's not a full out lemon has lots of lemony goodness. Not your thing? Leave. Totally your thing? Enjoy.

To De-Stress a Teenage Songwriter

"C'mon Ally! You're so stressed out and when you're this stressed, you don't exactly write well…"

Austin had her pinned in-between him and the side of the counter in Sonic Boom. She had her arms crossed as he leaned against her. Her cheeks were on fire with splashes of pink from his idea. She wasn't going to give into him. So what if she was stressed and maybe not at her best? He really wasn't helping that was for sure.

"No! It's a stupid idea," She held her ground with a strong voice, "I'm not going to let you do _that_ because my writing's a little off today."

"You're lyrics aren't even rhyming and I'm pretty sure you made up a few words along the way," he pleaded, "If you do that I may as well just sing a Dr. Seuss book."

"Why don't you just do that then? I'm sure your fans would love to hear your musical rendition of 'One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish'," she twisted her mouth to the side in frustration.

He sighed, "Even if they did, I don't. I want an Ally Dawson original."

"Well if my writing's as bad as you say it is right now then you're not going to get one are you?"

"Ally, I'm just trying to help. You really need to calm down; you're too worked up to write anything good."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Listen, I mean it always calms me down."

She looked away from him. He could be such a pervert sometimes and while she wished she could just blame it on his testosterone, which she partially already did, she knew he was actually trying to help in a weird way. But announcing what he just had. She really didn't need to know that. Just by bringing himself into the conversation like that, the images were already starting to flood into her mind. She really hated hormones. They had only been dating, officially, for a month. She really didn't know what to call the stage they were before that – it was complicated. But these facts just reinforced her decision. It didn't matter that there were times when they had gotten a little _rambunctious_ in the practice room before. It didn't matter that his hands were positively magic. And it certainly didn't matter that she may have, only maybe, would have liked to put his idea into play. If only it weren't completely ridiculous, stupid, and so _embarrassing_…

For heaven's sake, they were in her father's shop! It may have been closed, 2 am, and they may have been completely alone, but she had a song to write. So she wasn't on her game that day, whatever, she could just… go back and fix it up another day! If only tomorrow weren't Friday.

"The answer is still no. We have work to do," she said firmly. She turned to one of his arms and tried to push them off the counter and out of her way. They refused to budge. She let out a whine from the back of her throat as she tried again, but to no avail.

"Als, it's not like, you know, I haven't touched you before," he muttered turning a ripe red. Her face followed suit and she went back to furiously pressing at his arms. Did he really need to bring that up? She desperately wished he hadn't. It had been a particularly late night in the practice studio a few weeks back, and they had gotten particularly frisky on the piano bench after finishing a song. He had been feeling bold and confident, and one of his hands had made its way lower and lower until… she really preferred not to recall that certain memory right now in front of him, even if it wasn't aloud. Besides, that was merely the heat of the moment combined with being awake for much too long and a song high. And it was once! Just because it happened before, once, and just because she may have liked it – or loved it as the case was, it didn't mean she was going let him do it again on a whim because of some stupid idea.

"Alright," he absentmindedly dragged one of his hands across her left thigh as he talked; she was sure he didn't even realize he was doing it, "I'm not going to force you into anything, but dancing didn't lighten you up, or watching videos on the internet, and playing the piano just made you more frustrated. It was the last thing I could think of."

She sighed, it was true. Everything that he mentioned was tried and none of it had worked when usually it would have… no! She couldn't seriously be considering his offer. Even if her skin was tingling under his current touch and no matter how hot her insides were becoming. No, no, no, no, no! She couldn't, she wouldn't, she wasn't some flake who just changed her mind every five seconds, she had morals, she – she… wanted to. Maybe if she just got him to – NO! His fingers were playing with the belt loops on her jeans now. Her stomach was on fire, and by the look he was giving her, he knew it. Even as she refused, he taunted her. He bit his lip as he pulled her closer and let her feel what the thought of her had created. She gasped, her body responding much too positively to the stimulation and found herself cursing her hormones again.

"Just to let you know," he mumbled shyly; when was he ever shy of anything, "Just what you do to me. I'm still not going to force you. But – I don't actually know what I was thinking… I should probably go take care of, hmm, _this_."

He let go of the counter and turned to walk away. He wasn't sure where, but somewhere where he could get a handle on his issue. Ally groaned inwardly. Did he really think he could do that? Get her all hot and flustered and then just leave? Oh, no, that was not the way things worked. She grabbed him from behind, pressing herself against him as he had done earlier to her. His head cocked to the side to see her, face displaying obvious surprise. She only managed a quick hurried sentence to him.

"I'm still stressed."

"But, I though," he started before she interrupted forcefully, "Please do something before I change my mind again."

He didn't need to be told twice. In the blink of an eye she was pressed back up against the counter, his lips attacking hers and his hands, his magnificent hands, holding her hips firmly to his. He was no expert, but he paid enough attention in Sex Ed to know the approximate areas of all the right places. He groaned as she trust her hips forward into his and his hands latched onto her tighter. Apparently, she'd paid attention too.

Her hands her tugging at his hair as his tongue broke into mouth. She kissed him back, her pent of ferocity coming through. Wasn't she supposed to be against this? He hoisted her onto the counter and his hands travelled to her thighs, creating a pretty little mewl from his songwriter. Screw being against it, she didn't care if she was a flake, and who really needed morals anyways? He smiled into her mouth, his head ringing with all the possible sounds he could bring forth from her. He wanted to hear them all.

She gasped his name as he hit that sensitive area of her neck. He toyed with the flesh, eagerly listening to her heavy breathing and delicious noises. She was suddenly very glad her father was at a harmonica convention.

Her hands grabbed at the collar of his shirt as he kissed down to her collarbone and back up. She clawed at him through his shirt in anticipation. His hands were still at her thighs, unmoving. He seemed so set on letting him touch and her and now he wasn't moving. She felt her groin light itself ablaze at the thought. Wasn't he going to move? He really must be dim not to be aware of what he was putting her though, it may not have been as clear as his but it was still rather obvious. Her loins were starting to throb impatiently. And finally, as if he had read her mind, or maybe finally got the memo, one of his hands made a move and traced over her jeans where her opening would be. She shuttered, crying out with relief and pleasure and bit down on one of her fingers as a reflex. As he continued up and down the hem of her pants, he removed her hand from her teeth, kissed it and returned it to his collar. He wasn't about to let her fingers muffle her. So what if the neighbours heard? He was almost proud of the fact that others might be aware of what they were doing, as long as it wasn't her father of course. Everyone else had his personal permission to eat their hearts out.

He pressed his thumb down on where he guessed her clit would be and relished in her breathy scream. His own groin was becoming painfully erect behind the confines of his fly. He removed his hand from her, an action which she wasn't too thrilled with. He reassured her with a dirty smile. He wasn't going anywhere. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips while he brought her legs around his waist. She started to nip at his neck as he started moving. The both of them cried out with each blow. She tried to continue to kiss the dip of his neck, but as each trust hit her core and sent another ripple through her she found she could only managed to bury herself into his chest. His breathing became more erratic and heavy as they continued. She tightened her legs around him as his movements became stronger and faster. Lights were beginning to flash behind his eyes. He groaned in a primal manner as she began to shake against him.

They were both so close, the tipping point in sight. Her screams were slightly muffled by his shirt but he was far to in rhythm to stop and fix her position. He felt the counter rumble as they went, heard the soft chiming of the tip jar just beyond her weighted pants and quieted mews. It was all becoming too much to handle.

She came in a medley of soft tremors when he slammed into her again. Her body shook gently in his arms as she repeated his name over and over in a hoarse voice. When she came down and looked him straight in the eyes, he realized he had stopped and was still painfully hard against her. She smiled, kissed his lips lightly, and slipped a hand between them. She wasn't going to make him wait for it, torturing him wasn't going to help anyone at this point.

He nearly jumped at the contact. Using the heel of her hand she massaged his groin, earning a grunt of pleasure every few rotations. She bit down softly on his ear lobe and continued her actions, increasing her speed at his command. It didn't take long for him to cum, his hips thrusting forward into her hand and a hurried version of her name leaving his mouth. She sat on the counter, entangled in him, while he placed small kisses up the side of her face.

She jumped from her seat to the small space in front of him, her legs a little wobbly but rightfully so, and kissed him dryly on the mouth. He smiled at her when she pulled away – a goofy love struck grin. She giggled at him, holding his forearms delicately in her hands.

"Feeling relaxed," he asked breathlessly.

She smirked, "Maybe… not completely."

His face became a dirty parallel of her, "Oh, really?"

"Hmm, really."

His fingers returned to her belt loops, "Well, we'd better fix that."

/

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE SONG'S NOT FINISHED! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU TWO DOING WHEN YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING!"

Trish patted Dex's shoulder in pity, "Like it isn't obvious. I think the fans can wait an extra day – unless you want to deal with my fist?"


End file.
